


I saw the constellations reveal themselves one star at a time

by EponineTheStrange (gallifreyandglowclouds)



Category: Doctor Who RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-12
Updated: 2013-07-12
Packaged: 2017-12-19 06:40:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/880619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gallifreyandglowclouds/pseuds/EponineTheStrange
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kissing on the sidewalk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I saw the constellations reveal themselves one star at a time

He doesn’t wake up this morning thinking that he’s going to be walking down West 79th with Karen at two in the morning, sort of but not really holding hands and not really talking. All he knew when he woke up that morning is that he had to be on a four-thirty flight from Detroit to LaGuardia, and that if he missed it he would walk to New York because this was the closest they’d be in several months and he would not miss this for the world.

Matt sort of bobs up and down during the Kanye concert, which he kind of hates but knows that Karen needs to hang around because she’s got to impress her new bosses, but then she presses herself in to his side which makes the small space feel ten times warmer and asks if he’d rather go.

He says yes, and then they hop in a cab, but she asks them to let her out on Central Park West several blocks south of the hotel that she’s staying at, because she wants to walk. And it’s nice in New York right now, because it hasn’t hit full summer muggy yet, so he walks with her, and now they’re cutting down 79th because she’s staying at 79th and Amsterdam, and they’ve just crossed Columbus when she puts her hand in his for real. Her palm is a bit sweaty but is kind of perfect, in a weird way, and he instinctively tightens his fingers around hers and then remembers that she probably need to stop and have some kind of a conversation about this, because hand holding is new. Actually, the way that she kind of leans in to him as she walks is new as well, because that’s something that’s usually reserved for drunk Karen and this Karen is definitely very, very sober.

Matt stops, and so does Karen, and she turns to face him.

“Kaz,” he says, cautiously, “is everything okay?”

She nods. “Yeah. I think so.”

“So we’re holding hands now?”

“I guess.”

“I like it, Kaz,” he says, and winds his free hand through hers. It occurs to him that perhaps he should call her Karen now, because the seriousness and intimacy of the situation demands it, but instead he sticks with the nickname because there’s a lot of intimacy in those three letters because he owns them – he is the only one who calls her Kaz, and thus the name belongs to him (which does, but should not give him a boost of possessive pride).

Karen steps closer to him then, and maybe her closeness is instinctive but then that probably means the way one of his hands slides around her waist is too, and the way he pulls her flush against him – that’s all instinct, right up to the way that her hand slips away from his but winds with her other one around the back of his neck, and then his lips are on hers. Yup, feels like the most natural thing there possibly is.

His lips slide over hers easily, and before his mind is consumed with how Karen tastes and how she smells he vaguely remembers her licking her lips all night and wondering what that was all about.

She smells like Channel Number 5 and tastes like the one Bellini she drank while they were at the bar, and he desperately wants to slip his hands under the top she’s wearing so he can runs his fingers along her alabaster skin and draw mirror-image patterns to the ones that she’s sketching on the back of his neck with her fingers.

His tongue slips through her lips and swipes across the roof of her mouth and she gasps and then moans and then digs her nails hard in to the back of his neck.

One of his legs slips between hers and she ruts up against it, and this is now getting to the point where they probably shouldn’t do this in front of someone’s brownstone but he’ll be damned if he wants to stop now.

She pulls away first, however, but not far enough that he can’t lean in and kiss her gently on the forehead – a quiet coda to end the kiss.

“Kazza,” he whispers, but whatever else he was going to say just dies in his throat. 

“Matt,” she whispers back, “let’s go back to mine, eh?”

He nods, and slips an arm around her waist as they walk, strides matching perfectly. She rests her head on his shoulder.


End file.
